The most unusual thing I ever stole?A snowman.Midnight.He looked magnificent;a tall,white mute beneath the winter moon.I wanted him,a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain.I started with the head.Better off dead that giving in,not taking what u want.He weight a ton;his torso,frozen stiff,hugged to my chest,a fierce chill piercing my gut.Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning.Life’s tough.Sometimes I steal things I don’t need.I joy-ride cars to nowhere,break into houses just to have a look.I’m a mucky ghost,leave a mess,maybe pinch a camera.I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob.A stranger’s bedroom.Mirrors.I sigh like this-Aah…It took some time.Reassembled in the yard,he didn’t look the same.I took a run and booted him.Again.Again.My breath ripped out in rags.It seems daft now.Then I was standing alone amongst lumps of snow,sick of the world.Boredom.Mostly I’m so bored I could eat myself.One time,I stole a guitar and thought I might learn to play.I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once,flogged it,but the snowman was strangest.You don’t understand a word I’m saying,do you?